Plugging up the Plotholes
by Vegetableswillhavetheirrevenge
Summary: A collection of one-shots in which the various plotholes of Merlin are explained. From magic poultices to strawberries, and from moving corridors to linked forests, this is my endeavour to plug up the plotholes.
1. Practicalities of Poultices

**My first ever collection of one-shots, each dedicated to plugging up the plotholes we all love so much. I have a lot of plans (some humorous, others not-so-much, and all of varying lengths), but if there are any plotholes you want me to tackle, please let me know. **

**Chapter one- Why does Merlin leave the magic poultice under Tom's pillow?**

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**Practicalities of poultices**

Merlin hovered outside of the small, wooden house, smiling contentedly at the view through the window. Just inside, Gwen knelt beside where her father sat in his bed- pure, unbridled joy on both of their faces as they marvelled at his sudden recovery from the plague which held the fear-stricken city in it's grasp.

Still beaming inside, the young Warlock left the two to their celebrations. It didn't prove too hard for him to avoid the patrols and, almost before he knew it, he was back in his bed in the chambers he shared with Gaius.

The next day had been going as well for him as he could expect, considering that they had still been unable to find out what was causing the disease. He was walking through one of the castle corridors when a huge commotion sounded somewhere behind him. Turning around, he dove into the adjoining corridor, only to find himself watching with horror as Gwen was dragged, begging for mercy, down the hall- no doubt towards the throne room. Where Uther would be waiting for her. He was just moving forward to do..._something_... when Gaius emerged from yet another aisle to hold him back.

His mind was completely blank of all but the events he had concluded which must have led up to this incident. They thought Gwen was a Witch. Which meant that they must have found the healing poultice he had left under her father's pillow. Merlin could have cursed his bad fortune. The poultice had to be left for at least eight hours in order to ensure the illness didn't return- he had been on his way to fetch it when he had heard Gwen's cries. If only that prat Arthur could have waited just one more hour before conducting his search of the Blacksmith's house, the poultice would have been gone. Tom would still have been healed, and Gwen would have been safe from suspicion.

If only the search had been an hour later, things would have turned out so differently...


	2. Distorted Spaces

**I'm back! And I shan't keep you lovely people waiting any longer than necessary.**

**Chapter two- in which I (hopefully) explain how completely different locations can look exactly the same, and why the views from Gaius' and Merlin's window are so different (with a couple of magical attack mentions thrown in the mix too, for good measure). Please let me know whether or not it makes any sense at all.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. *sigh***

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**Distorted Spaces**

Merlin often wondered, staring out of his window and across the various occurrences in the town below, just how much of an idiot Uther was in thinking he could wipe all things magical from the face of the Earth. After all, he thought sarcastically, it wasn't as though the entire Kingdom was filled with magical hotspots or anything... Oh wait, it was.

It was something Merlin, with his increasing ability to sense magical disturbances, had grown more and more aware of since he had first arrived in Camelot just a few short years previously. The most obvious were places such as the valley of the fallen kings. Did the King honestly believe that magic would disappear from the land when such a famous (and strangely often-frequented) valley housed the cave which was believed to be the source of all magic?

And then, in accordance with this, there were the magical veins which spread out from the cave- so similar to the multiple ones within Camelot's castle itself. Which, in itself, opened a whole 'nother jar of worms. Did the idiot ruler honestly think that there was no magic in a castle which had been built with the assistance of the greatest sorcerer present at the time- Sigan himself? The entire castle was riddled with magic!

Although, to be fair, the magic was undetectable even to many magic users. In fact, Merlin himself probably only noticed it because of the games it played with him. He wondered, distantly, if Arthur would stop being annoyed with him for being late, were the Prince to ever discover that it was often due to the castle's magic diverting his passages- slowing him down, and turning him around until he faced an entirely different direction. Not that he minded in the slightest- it could be strangely amusing to dodge heavy metal goblets. And the price was a small one. Because, in building up his friendship with the castle's magic, and attuning his own magic to it, he had gained an invaluable ally. It made his travels shorter (and thus a lot faster) when he needed to get somewhere in a hurry- more often than not to save the hide of a certain ungrateful Prince. It tugged him towards where he could overhear the random plottings of Camelot's enemies. And sometimes, just occasionally, it made him laugh by doing something fun. Like tripping up a certain dollop-headed Prat while said Prat was reeling off lists of never-ending chores. Or making it so that Gaius' window looked out across the courtyard, while his (which was only a tiny bit higher) had a magnificent view overlooking the entire city.

The magic threaded throughout the land was much the same. There were protections in place, of course, to keep non-magical beings from sensing their work (in the same way as the castle), but even so Merlin had to wonder just how thick people like Uther, Arthur and the Knights of Camelot were. Not to mention the numerous travellers and citizens who journeyed throughout Camelot's land. Did none of them ever wonder how it was possible for the same journey to take either one night or five, even while keeping the same consistent pace? Or how you could be travelling through one forest, only to find yourself in an entirely separate set of trees on the opposite side of the Kingdom, all in the blink of an eye? Or how the same cave could have a million different functions?

Of course, it wasn't all fun and games (however many times a magic trail had made him laugh by getting Arthur to step in an incredibly stinky bog). Magical creatures were drawn, by their very nature, to bask in the power the hotspots were so abundant in. So really, was it any surprise that Arthur and his hunting parties were attacked so often, considering the fact that the Prat insisted upon travelling precisely in line with the magical trails, even though he didn't know they were there? Or that so many magical creatures found their way to a castle brimming with the essence of the old ways?

So, in short, Merlin concluded that it was, in yet another way, all Uther's fault that his son was so attacked so often. If magic were allowed to roam free and fill the entire land once again, then magical creatures could too. And Merlin wouldn't be anywhere near as busy.

Basically, the Pendragon father and son were conspiring to make his life and difficult as humanly possible. And they didn't even realise they were doing it.

Typical.

Sighing, Merlin turned to listen to the tug of the castle's magic against his own, then headed off to wipe out the Basilisk which was apparently slinking around in the lower levels before yet another fell to the moronic intellect of the Pendragons.

Just another typical day, really.

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**Any good? At all? Please let me know.**

**Oh, and I'm trying to make note of things in Camelot which shouldn't be there, considering the time period. Strawberries and sandwiches are obvious, but I'd greatly appreciate being reminded of any more. Thanks in advance to anyone who tells me any.**


End file.
